Forgotten
by WOWZAcoolBEANS
Summary: But that one smile, that one glance, that one face that was at the tip of his mind but he could not recall seemed to be the only memory that could make him feel complete. Roxas/Axel


**Title:** Forgotten

**Synopsis:** But that one smile, that one glance, that one face that was at the tip of his mind but he could not recall seemed to be the only memory that could make him feel complete. Roxas/Axel

**Rating: **T

**A/N**: My first fic for Kingdom Hearts. Please don't hate me? Anyways, I don't actually play, I just watch my sister. As I write this she's in the Pirates of the Caribbean world in KHII, so we're just a bit behind. . I just really liked Roxas, so I thought I'd write a little bit about him. This is during his time in Twilight Town.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, because if I did, I'd actually be able to play it.

…

"_It's like forgetting the words to your favorite song._"

-'_Eet_' by Regina Spektor

…

The world was big, wasn't it?

In one moment you could feel like you were on top of it, and moments later it was as if you were being crushed. And what a difference that was, too; there was nothing more strange having a feeling of upmost elation followed by a crushing depression. Then again, what went up must go down, after all. Still, the feeling wasn't exactly new, per se, but had he ever experienced anything like it before? He had been alive for a long time –well, he'd been alive into his teenage years- Roxas knew that, but within that knowledge there was something lacking. As he felt a sensation it was as if it were the first time.

"Whatever," he whispers to himself as he turns from lying on his back to his side. "It's all just weird."

He was no sheep, no unthinking follower, he told himself, but his friends weren't feeling the same way and that made him uncomfortable. There was no one else who had these thoughts and feelings, so he was just a freak. Someone who just could disappear without…

He lays on his bed, confused. As he thinks those words there's something that comes to him. "A memory?" He asks to the air and, as it should be, there is no response from it. He shuts his eyes and focuses on those words. All he can hear is their echo in the back of his mind, but no images come to him; besides the faintest bit of déjà vu, there's nothing behind those words. "It couldn't be," he says, almost with a laugh. "I must be going insane."

He contemplates this, wondering if it is, perhaps, true. His mind struggles with the idea for a few moments, rejecting it. "No…" Still, it is a viable option as to what was happening to him so much lately. It would explain everything; the strange dreams he's been having, the hallucinations that keep coming to him that seem so real… Insanity would be a convenient excuse, almost better than the alternatives.

"Alternatives?" He sighs. "Of course there are no alternatives…"

In his mind, someone is smiling. Those eyes that he cannot completely visualize tell him that things will be okay, and for some reason he is momentarily relieved. He hadn't noticed the tenseness in his body until he relaxed and he hadn't realized that he hadn't been breathing until he inhaled. With one look from an unrecognizable phantom he could be so instantly calm; it must have been something from one of his dreams.

Still, there is something terribly wrong. The tears in his eyes and the pain inside told him that much. With a pathetic half-smile he tried to remember if he had eaten something weird the day before, but it was a fruitless effort. The pain came from somewhere different. The pain was something less physical. Again he tries to visualize what he's thinking of, but can only come up with a ghost of an image on the tip of his mind. He tried as hard as he could to remember what he was thinking of, but all it did was frustrate him more and bring tears to his eyes.

It was almost funny to him; when he tried to remember some things that he should have been able to recall, there was nothing but a great blank or memories that seemed almost fake at first touch, breakable if he thought about them too much. It wasn't just these ghosts of memories that he had more and more often with each passing hour, but the ones that he knew were to be true. His friends, his life… They all seemed so distant if he sat and thought about them for too long. And there were the underlying feelings that kept coming to him in flashes from out of nowhere. Not attached to any specific memory, they were lonely and cold. They seemed distant, but somehow close to him, though that made no sense. Only a few of them –despite there being many- had even the slightest happy connotation and though they seemed so foreign, Roxas knew that they were real, that he had felt them and had known that sadness. But the part that scared him the most was the fact that he didn't know when he had felt them, or why.

But that one smile, that one glance, that one face that was at the tip of his mind but he could not recall seemed to be the only memory that could make him feel complete. And he didn't know why.

A tear rolls down his cheek as he chuckles softly at his own personal torment. "None of that is real," he whispers to himself, unsure if it is the truth or a lie. "It's a fantasy; a life that I've never had. This town is too small. I just feel cramped here, that's all. That's where it all must come from. It can't be-"

"Can't be what? Don't tell me that you've forgotten about me!"

Like a shot Roxas sits up in his bed, looking around for that voice, but there is no one in the room with him. In fact, it is more lonely and isolated than ever. His eyes dart around wildly, but still, there is no one there. He is alone; he is always alone here. Not even his friends have been in his room. How would anyone have known that this was where he was?

He lies back down wondering about his own sanity for a second time. How long had things been progressing like this? He can't remember. It seems that he can't remember anything important anymore. There are holes everywhere, and in the least likely of places.

Not caring that it was summer and he had things to do, not caring that the world would go on turning whilst he lazed away, not caring about his friends or the fact that they were expecting him to be with them that day, he shut his eyes one more time to go back to sleep. The dreams that he kept having may not have made sense, but sometimes it felt like that smile and that voice were better than the reality that he was living in.

Because he knew that with those eyes he was the happiest and with that voice he could truly smile.

…

_Fin_


End file.
